Tactican VS Gladiator
by Autobotschic
Summary: Crack oneshot featuring Prowl, Optimus, and Shadow Stalker my oc. Prowl decides it's time to have a nice sit down chat with Shadow Stalker about protocol and conduct, only for it to backfire horribly into the tactician's face with dire consequences. Set back on Cybertron in the early days of the war.


Alright, idea and some of the writing comes from a roleplay on Shadow Stalker's facebook with Prowl, who's played by a friend of Ninja School Dropout. Hilarity ensued, and the plot bunnies raged.

::Comm. Link::

* * *

Shadow Stalker had been enjoying a nice cube of highgrade and relaxing in the Rec. Room after another skirmish with the Decepticons when her internal comm. link went off. The femme growled, checking who it was to see if it could be ignored. Prowl. No go. Well, the peaceful moment was gone anyway.

::Yes, Prowl?::

::Report to my office, now.::

::Alright, be there in a breem.::

::I'm giving you five minutes.::

::Prowl, I'm on the other side of base!::

:: Start running then.:: The comm. link snapped off, and Shadow's optic twitched. Did he know she had taken a blast to her leg and wasn't suppose to strain it? Well, she'd certainly tell him once she got there. With a sharp vent, the femme pulled herself up from the booth and limped her way down the labyrinth halls and towards the tactician's office.

* * *

Shadow had arrived at Prowl's office three minutes late to prove a point. She knocked on the door, waiting patiently. It slid open with a hiss, revealing a stoic Prowl.

"You're late," he stated.

"I'm injured. I strain it and Ratchet'll have my helm," Shadow scoffed, moving and taking a seat in front of the abnormally clean desk.

Sapphire blue met ice blue, and an optic ridge arched up. "Soo, why am I here now?"

"How was the skirmish?" Prowl asked.

_Oooh.. Frag.. _Shadow thought to herself._ I know exactly what's going on here.._

"It went well, no more Energon for them," she responded evenly.

"That's good. Any casualties?"

"None on our side."

"Injures?"

"A few, didn't see who though."

"I'm retiring you from active battle duty, Shadow Stalker."

"What! Why?" Shadow whined, her antennae flicking back.

"Because you tend to horribly injure bots from your own team, and the only excuse you seem to come up with is, 'They were in my way.'"

"They were.. Listen, they should know better by now then to get in the way of a Gladiator on a killing spree!"

"Yes, I'll be sure to tell that to Bumblebee as soon as his wings get reattached."

"If you won't, I will. Besides, Ironblazer was in that battle! Absolutely fragging nothing was standing in my way to get to that little slag sucking rust wart!"

"What if it was Optimus?"

The Gladiator's optics narrowed. Oh pit no, he was not bringing Optimus into this. A smirk played on his lips, he was.

"Optimus would be smart enough not to get in my way," Shadow stated bluntly. The black and white mech was getting on her nerves.

"In the heat of battle, it's kind of hard to maneuver, believe it or not," Prowl returned evenly.

"For anyone who was a long range fighter. Optimus would be smart enough to know not to get in my way in the first place from the minute the battle started."

"What if Megatron had cornered you all, and decided to put Ironblazer in your sight?"

"Why did you let us get cornered in the first place? You_ are_ the Tactician."

"There are various reasons. Optimus ticked me off to the point of wanting him dead. You ticked me off to the point of wanting you dead. Oh, and my favorite, I'm dead, and without me, Optimus decides it is fit to put you in charge of the tactical division," Prowl stated sarcastically.

"In all variations; We're royally screwed," Shadow vented, rubbing the side of her helm.

"Yes, we are. Except in the last one where I'm dead. You guys are the only ones royally screwed there," the Praxian returned smugly.

"Yes, yes we are.. How would you die in the first place? Usually so cautious," the femme chided in reply.

"I probably royally ticked of Jazz. Or Covenant, or Optimus, or Ultra Magnus, or Ratchet. Who knows?" the Tactician stated bluntly.

"Oh, who knows indeed," Shadow Stalker abruptly replied with a wicked grin.

"Perhaps it was you. Jealous of the power I have gained, and jealous of the love Optimus openly shows for me," Prowl smirked, "Ah, but who know?"

Shadow scoffed. "Openly shows my aft. If you were so jealous of my good looks and wanted a trine bonding you should have just asked."

"Oh trust me, I am certainly not interested in a trine bonding with _you_ involved," Prowl snarked in return.

Shadow pouted, and heard heavy pedefalls outside the door that could only belong to one mech. Grinning wickedly, Shadow's optics flashed.

"OW, OW! PROWL! STOP IT! PROWL, YOU'RE HURTING ME! STOP!" she screamed, rocking back in the chair as the Praxian's optics shot open.

"Sha-!"

**_CLANK._**

The door was busted off its hinges, revealing an angry Prime. Optimus's face quickly changed to one of confusion as he saw his mate was perfectly fine, grinning up at him while Prowl looked absolutely murderous.

"Hey hon."

"Shadow, what is going on here..?"

"Prowler's being an aft."

"Run Shadow Stalker, run," Prowl snarled. Shadow squeaked, leaping up over the chair and bolting out of the door and past Optimus.

"You'll never catch me alive freeloader!"

Optimus watched his mate sprint off, before turning back to Prowl who was getting up with an aggravated doorwing twitch.

"Sir, I'm putting your mate in the brig for three weeks," the Tactican stated as he stalked past Optimus and down the hall.

"Alright, just don't kill her Prowl," Optimus vented as he watched the Praxian mech track down the femme.

As soon as the mech disappeared from the Prime's view, Optimus shook his head. "Those two will offline me with their antics one day, I swear by the Allspark."


End file.
